


A Night Indoors (sort of)

by Tzipporrah



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Mid-Canon, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 08:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13586691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzipporrah/pseuds/Tzipporrah
Summary: The Rowdy 3 stop their travels to stay in a barn overnight. Martin and the boys are prone to nightmares, given their traumatic past, and Martin wakes in the night thinking Amanda is having one of her own.





	A Night Indoors (sort of)

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Since I somehow forgot to include Beast, we're going to place this mid season one.
> 
> 2\. Pretend with me, if you will, for the sake of the story, that sleepy Incubi can't sense/smell emotions as readily as when they are awake, mmkay?

“A barn?” Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Just for the night.” Gripps answered. “We have stuff on top of the van just for when we stay in places like this.”  
‘You’ve done it before?” she realized her tone was sounding redundant and not a little judgmental. “Sorry, it’s just kind of a surprise to me.”  
“Can’t sleep in the van all the time, Drummer!” Cross grinned, popping between them with a hand on each of their backs.  
There was a sharp whistle from behind, and they all turned. Martin had loosed a few bungee cords from the rack, and motioned for everyone to come help him unload. Amanda carried what she thought might be a heavy camping bedroll, a few electric lanterns, and the food they’d picked up before stopping in the field. The boys were a well-oiled machine when it came to unpacking their van, and had finished bringing things in, and were halfway set up, by the time Amanda came in with the steaming plastic bags. In one stall, set in the back corner of the small barn, now hung three faded and patched hammocks.  
“Why not one stall each?” she asked, setting out paper and Styrofoam containers on the upturned crates someone had set together as a makeshift table.  
“We don’t like to be that far apart,” Cross said matter-of-factly. “Especially at night.”  
“Bad dreams, Drummer.” Vogel interjected.  
“Bad memories, bad people…it’s just better to sleep close.” Gripps said quietly.  
“So why are there only three hammocks?”  
“Martin likes to sleep near the door,” Vogel said. “Just in case.”  
Amanda looked over at Martin, sitting in a folding chair a couple feet from her. He looked at her significantly. She thought maybe he had nightmares, too, but sacrificed his comfort for the protection of his brothers. She looked away from his intense gaze reluctantly, and listened as the subject of conversation changed to favorite foods. 

 

“We made a spot for you to sleep, too, Drummer.” Cross said as he took Amanda’s empty containers and crammed them into the garbage bag he’d been filling with their empties. “Oh! You ain’t afraid of heights, are you?”  
She shook her head, wondering what was in store for her. Martin stood and held out his hand for her, and she took it, getting to her feet. He led her to a ladder that didn’t look terribly rickety, and climbed it first. Amanda followed him, waiting to put her weight on the ladder until she saw Martins second boot disappear.  
“Oh, wow,” she gasped, as her head broke the surface of the loft.  
There was a palette made of layered blankets and a couple of pillows. But what had surprised her were the little white twinkle lights strung up on the angled ceiling, with a rectangular battery pack at one end of the wire.  
“Whose idea was it to put up the lights?”  
“Gripps’,” Martin said softly. “He said it was in case you’re afraid of the dark. He’s afraid of the dark, himself, so…”  
“Oh,” Amanda smiled warmly. The loft looked so cozy, she could tell it had taken a lot of effort for her wild boys to set up something so neat and tidy. “I love it. Thank you.”  
“No problem, Drummer,” he said gruffly, his cheeks and ears turning a bit pink. “Oh, and we’re going outside to burn the trash, in a little while, if you need an opportunity for privacy.”  
She thanked him, then followed him down the ladder, to get her backpack. She said good night to each of the men, hugging them in thanks for her sleeping area, then climbed back up to her bed for the night.

 

Martin was jerked awake suddenly by a voice in the dark. It was Amanda, and she sounded distressed. He clamored to his feet from his sleeping bag by the barn door, pausing briefly to check on his brothers -lit by the lanterns- in their hammocks, then scaled the ladder quickly. He perched on his knees and watched her, for a minute, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lights hanging above her. She was on her back, and twitching. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair slightly sweaty, despite having kicked the blanket off. Occasionally, a sound would escape from her mouth. Suddenly, she called out his name, then flipped onto her side, facing away from him. Without thinking, he quickly curled next to her, brushing her hair away from her face to shush in her ear.  
“I’m here, Drummer, it’s ok,” he murmured, becoming aware of how close his mouth was to her neck, to say nothing of other body parts. The scent of her hair, her skin, her sweat, and finally her lust, enveloped him, and he suddenly felt very foolish for having thought she was having a nightmare. Frozen with embarrassment mixed with his own fascinated arousal, he couldn’t decide if he should stay or climb back down. The decision was made for him when she suddenly arched against him, rubbing her butt up against the front of his jeans. This surprised him so much that he had no time to stifle a groan. Amanda stilled, stiffening as she awoke.  
“Martin, is that you?” she whispered.  
“Mmm,” he growled in her ear, holding back the urge to gather her to him and grind against her of his own volition. “I thought you were having a nightmare, Drummer.”  
“No,” she huffed a laugh. “Not a nightmare.”  
She leaned back, pressing closer to him, and he grabbed her hip to keep from toppling over backwards. She rubbed herself on him again, this time slowly and deliberately. Martin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to keep his primitive urges in check. His hands wanted to rip her clothes, his teeth to sink into her soft skin. Instead, he carefully, gently ran the tip of his nose up the side of her neck. She tilted her shoulder and head farther apart, giving him better access. Hand gripping her hip, he began kissing her ear, neck, and shoulder. She made little stifled sounds of pleasure, which urged him on and shook his resolve. He found he’d progressed to grazing his teeth against her soft skin, and her response to that was to whimper and arch against him again. She took his hand from its place on her pelvis and drew it up to cup her breast through her shirt. He stopped working on her neck, and had to lean his forehead against the back of her head and breathe deeply again. His pause apparently made Amanda curious to see what had stopped him, and she flipped onto her back.  
“You ok, Martin?” she whispered, taking his face between her hands.  
“I’m fine,” he murmured. “Just trying to keep a steady pace. My body is trying to fight with me.”  
“If you don’t want this, Martin, I won’t be upset with you.”  
“No, no, no,” he kissed her palms, then her forehead. “I do, I want this, I want you. I just don’t want to hurt you.”  
“Do you mean you can get rough?” her dark eyes glittered, her lips and cheeks darkening.  
Martin nodded.  
“I trust you,” she whispered, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling herself closer to him. “Let go.”  
Still not sure, he kissed her gently, trying to figure out a plan of attack. Impatiently, Amanda bit his lower lip, spurring him into action. With a growl, he yanked her to him, hiking her left leg up and over his right hip and grinding hard between her legs. When she melted under his assertive touch, he knew she had meant what she’d said, she trusted him not to really hurt her. The final seal broke, and he dug into her with fervor.  
Torn, discarded clothes decorated the space around Amanda’s palette, and the reflection of the tiny electric lights danced on Martin’s skin as she sat astride his long body. Her hand was on his throat, pinning him down as she took him agonizingly slowly, watching him struggle against the internal bonds he had tied himself down with. He lay very still, his hands on her hips, the only movement being his fingertips twitching, tongue darting out to lick his lips, and his eyes occasionally rolling back in pleasure. She could tell his muscles were screaming to move, to grab her and fuck her hard. But he kept as still as possible, just watching and feeling what she did to him. Looking him in the eye, she found her clit with her left hand, and the combination of him stroking her from the inside, and her own self-stroking from the outside brought on an incredible orgasm. She watched his eyes widen and his mouth open as she did it. When she took her hand off his neck, he took it as a sign, digging his fingers into her hips and back, and bucking up into her with a rough, throaty moan. He sat halfway up, biting and sucking at her neck as he held her to him, and making her forget she was trying to be quiet. She whined as the friction caused the start of another orgasm. He noticed the difference, and tried to keep up what he had been doing, to help her get there. She came again with a muffled whimper against his neck, and she felt him beginning to twitch and jerk within her. She was glad she had taken a handful of condoms when she’d packed up and left her home to run away with a van full of crazy strangers. Martin made the softest sound she’d ever heard from him, pressing his face against her shoulder and shuddering.  
“Thank you, Martin.” She whispered to him, when they’d settled under her blankets to go back to sleep.  
“For what, Drummer?” he asked in his gruff whisper.  
“You made my dream come true.”  
Martin blushed despite himself, and was glad Amanda’s eyes were shut.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was influenced by a fantastic story I recently read in the Magnificent 7 tag (Goodnight Robicheaux and Billy Rocks) with the same premise of a sex dream being misinterpreted as a nightmare.


End file.
